The Protector
by CNGB
Summary: James Potter, as a child, was taught to protect those he cared about. Now, as an adult, he wants to protect those he loves, no matter what.


"**The Protector"**

_**by CNGB**_

_**Special thanks to:**_

_**J. K. Rowling, for writing the **_**Harry Potter****_ series._**

_**Edgar Allan Poe, for writing "The Bells."**_

_**Baelkaz for reviewing "Let's Read a Good Book."**_

_**xXRose-the-MagicatXx for favoriting "Falling Snow."**_

_**And The Nemesis of Expectation for **_**not only****_ reviewing reviewing "Let's Read a Good Book," but also for giving me some much-needed insight of a fan of the "reading-the-books" fics (which, perhaps, I will use what she said as more inspiration for one of my own stories—with a severe twist, but still)._**

_**And of course, to you, who is reading this.**_

**Word count: 2,159**

**Rating: K+**

**Warnings: Light pairing; Marauder era**

**Categories: Family; Friendship**

**Legal junk: I do not own _Harry Potter_; I do not own "The Bells."**

**It is important to note that this one-shot was inspired by part two of Edgar Allan Poe's terrific poem, "The Bells" (which is provided right below this). Because of that, there will be two more separate one-shots—not all of which in the _Harry Potter_ universe. The first one-shot dedicated to this poem has already been published, and you can find it at the bottom of my profile entitled "Falling Snow." I originally got the idea of imagining a wedding when reading the second part, and this one-shot is the product of that imagery.**

_Hear the mellow wedding bells  
><em>_Golden bells!  
><em>_What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!  
><em>_Through the balmy air of night  
><em>_How they ring out their delight!  
><em>_From the molten-golden notes,  
><em>_And all in tune,  
><em>_What a liquid ditty floats  
><em>_To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats  
><em>_On the moon!  
><em>_Oh, from out the sounding cells,  
><em>_What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!  
><em>_How it swells!  
><em>_How it dwells  
><em>_On the Future! how it tells  
><em>_Of the rapture that impels  
><em>_To the swinging and the ringing  
><em>_Of the bells, bells, bells,  
><em>_Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,  
><em>_Bells, bells, bells—  
><em>_To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!_

* * *

><p>James and Lily Potter's wedding was the happiest either of them had ever been. Despite the dark times surrounding them, there was no way they <em>couldn't<em> be happy! All of the Marauders had been in attendance, as well as Lily's parents (Lily's sister did not approve of Lily marrying a wizard, so she did not attend, nor did her husband) and his own, and then there were their schoolmates from Hogwarts. And, of course, the Order members that were able to make it, such as Dumbledore, Frank and Alice Longbottom, and so on.

The entire wedding sounded huge, when you put it like that, but it was actually very quiet. James and Lily Potter were Lord Voldemort's enemies, and, by association, all of Voldemort's minions. It would have been illogical if they had made a big thing out of it—what if someone on the Dark side got wind and planned an attack?

Lily told him she didn't want a big wedding anyway.

Oh yes, there was no doubt for James that he had been happiest with his Lily. All of the times he, Sirius, Remus and Peter had pranked the Slytherins during their Hogwarts school years did not compare, nor did his seventeenth birthday. Even the day Lily had finally accepted James's invitation to a date shallowed in comparison to the ecstasy that coursed his veins when he was told to kiss the bride.

The wedding had only happened a week ago. James had stayed in a state of giddy amazement for a full seven days before he started to realize that the world—_the_ world, not _his _world—did not revolve around Lily Potter. Thoughts of the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix slowly started coming back into his mind, and James slid from his perch on cloud nine a bit.

Now that he was married, James felt that it was his duty to protect his family in any way that he could. His parents were getting on in age, and according to his mother, his father had been feeling a bit "peaky" as of late. And Lily? Oh, James _knew_ that Lily could fight, he had complete confidence in her ability at dueling; however, that did not change his feelings that quite clearly stated he should protect Lily with everything in him before she acquired a scratch on her cheek.

And what about outside of his biological and marital family? What about his friends? Sirius had fought against Voldemort and his Death Eaters many times before, so James was fairly sure that Sirius would at least be able to protect himself (and get away) if he was to be attacked. And Remus? James could admit that Remus wasn't the best at dueling; however, Remus was _smart_. Really, really smart. And it was that fact that made James confident that, if nothing else, Remus would be able to get away by outsmarting any Death Eaters that surrounded him.

But Peter . . . .

Peter was not a good duelist like Sirius was. The few times that he had fought against Death Eaters were always times when he was with James or Sirius or Remus, or at at least with some other member of the Order. Furthermore, Peter wasn't exactly smart Like Remus was. Sure, Peter had scraped by in Hogwarts, but for the most part, that was because Peter's fellow Marauders helped him. And where would little Peter be on the battlefield if James—Sirius—Remus—any ally—was not there with him? Would he be tortured? Killed? Both?

James shuddered. He hated to undermine his friend so much, but James was _trying_ to be honest about the entire situation. It was certainly a question worth asking: what would Peter do in a situation where he was attacked during some isolated place by a group of Death Eaters?

Then, the answer came to James. It was such a wonderful thought that James thought he might jump for joy. In situations where he was threatened in anyway, Peter could run.

He could live.

Peter would most likely transform into his Animagus form and run—scurry actually—away as fast as he possibly could, away from the Death Eaters, away from the danger, until he was able to come across any trusted person that was capable of helping him. Whether that person happened to be Minerva McGonagall or him, James could not possibly care. He didn't care because he knew that even Peter—_Peter!—_would have a chance of escaping Death's cold, skeletal grip.

James sat there on the couch, mulling the state of the world over in his mind for a few minutes. He allowed himself to close his eyes, but although he was tired, James did not go to sleep. He couldn't sleep. Not when he had just realized that, even though he was married to the most beautiful, perfect woman in the world, things were still not at all perfect. No where close . . . .

And then, suddenly, his train of thought landed on the one person to ensure that the things were no where near perfect: the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—they all referred to the same person: Voldemort. Voldemort, the lover of all things Dark. Voldemort, the Muggle-born reaper (at that thought, he took an instinctive glance in the general direction of his and Lily's bedroom, where his beautiful bride—beautiful _Muggle-born_ bride—would be sleeping by then). Voldemort, the most heartless man—if you could even call him a man—to walk the planet in _years_.

James hated Voldemort. He wanted to destroy the man. Do whatever it took to make sure that his family—either literal or figurative—would be safe from his evil clutches. It almost didn't matter if James died in the process, because, if he died to kill Voldemort and _succeeded_ . . . well, it would most certainly have been worth it.

Besides, if he _did_ die, then he had one _hell_ of an awesome life. Nothing would ever change that.

James then started thinking about his "awesome" life.

He had been lucky enough to have a fairly good childhood. As he was born in his parents' old ages, he was very pampered from one day old to ten years old. He had never had to go through poverty; the Potter vault in Gringotts was full of Galleons and Sickles and Knuts, as well as some family heirlooms that his parents weren't particularly fond of. Even now that he was an adult, James knew that he did not have to work. The money would be _more_ than enough to keep him _and_ Lily _and_ Remus _and_ Sirius _and_ Peter clear of any and all money troubles.

Because there weren't any money troubles, James was able to have many things, both before and after he started his schooling career. There were times when his parents had put their feet down and did not allow James to get something that they did not want him having. At the time, James was sure that he was upset. Now, however, he was nothing but grateful, because it meant that he wasn't _completely_ spoiled—spoiled, yes, but not "completely," if that made any sense.

Then, during school, he quickly became one of the most popular boys in his year—along with Sirius, Remus, and Peter. Along with his schoolboy fame, he served the Gryffindor Quidditch team as Chaser (and later on as Captain, too), had excellent marks on tests and the like, and became an Animagus along with Sirius and Peter so that the three of them could accompany Remus during the full moon. O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s were great. He may have been an "arrogant toe-rag" up until around the sixth year (and during the summer before his seventh, he had made a complete one-hundred-eighty), so that he had managed to become a Head along with his long-time crush, Lily, and it was then that Lily and James began dating.

Good life indeed.

James heard a rustling in his and Lily's bedroom, but did not turn his head; he could see by his peripherals that she had climbed down the stairs to the living room to join James.

"J-J-J-James," she yawned, and James sensed her wiping the Sand Man's work out of her eyes, "what're you doing up so late?"

He smirked. "Early, you mean. It's nearly four."

"Mmm."

Lily sat beside him, neither of them talking, the both of them just staring off into space. He didn't feel like making a move to cook breakfast just then, and, by the looks of things, she didn't, either. James stole a glance at his wife. What was she thinking? Had the Dark side crossed her mind yet, or had Voldemort's ominous existence never once left the forefronts of her mind?

"I love you."

"I love you, too." What a truth that sentence held!

James leaned in for a quick kiss.

He finally stood up, stretching the muscles that had started to become slightly still from remaining so still for so long. "I'll cook breakfast."

"No, James, I can—"

"What d'you want?"

A huff. "An egg sandwich?"

"That's all?" James fully intended on eating blueberry pancakes.

"Mm-hmm."

* * *

><p>"Moony!"<p>

"Padfoot?"

"Moony!"

"Padfoot?"

"Moony!"

Remus sighed. "Sirius, are you capable of speaking English?"

Sirius looked slightly miffed. "How are you?"

"You've spent the past two minutes trying to get my attention—which, I remind you, you had—to ask _that_?"

"I think it's a very polite question, thank you very much!"

Remus did not respond.

"What about you, Prongs?"

"I'm great, thanks, Padfoot."

James, Sirius and Remus were exploring Muggle London. Lily had already accepted Marley McKinnon's invitation for tea, so she was not able to attend, and Peter had been sick with the flu and trying to sleep when Sirius had banged on his door as though there was a nearing apocalypse, so it was just three Marauders for the day.

The clouds above London were big and fluffy and white, but the air was chilling quickly; it was October, and James thought about the new batch of Hogwarts students Kings Cross must have held a few weeks ago. He almost wished that he was still in school. Then, at least, James didn't have to worry about his friends and lovely wife getting hurt by the enemy so much.

"I'm bored."

"What do you want to do, then?"

Sirius turned to James. "I don't know . . . but you know what?"

"What?"

"Something good is about to happen."

The Marauders sometimes joked that Sirius was a mediocre Seer. Sirius had always been able to "sense" things that others had not. He knew if someone he was close to was in trouble, or if something absolutely excellent was about to happen.

At first, James—along with Remus and Peter—had thought that Sirius was trying to pull his leg. As it turned out, though, Sirius proved time and time again that he really wasn't joking.

Once, he told James that, although it was going to be tough, the Gryffindor team was going to win the match against Ravenclaw and claim the Quidditch Cup once again. He had been right.

Sirius had also informed James that Lily was going to say yes.

James smiled. "Thank God."

"We need something good," Remus said lightly, but James thought he detected a bit of bitterness in his voice.

Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "And . . . you know . . . I think . . . I think it has something to do with _you_, Prongs. You and Lily."

"Is that so?"

"That's so. And whatever it is, it's going to be _awesome_!"

"Congratulations, Prongs. Perhaps it's a bit early, but oh well. I tip my hat off to you."

"Moony?"

"Yes, Padfoot?"

"You don't have a hat."

Remus placed his finger close to his lips in a "shh" gesture.

* * *

><p>James stared, slack-jawed, at Lily. James had never once assumed that he was going to have so much responsibility in his life. Well, okay, he <em>had<em> assumed, but now that it was staring him right in the face . . . oh, God . . . .

He must have sat there, stunned, on their bed, for at least a minute and a half. When he noticed that Lily was beginning to look worried, he shook himself out of his stupor, stood up, and hugged her tightly.

"I'm so . . . so . . . ."

"Happy?" Her voice was hopeful, and James nodded vigorously.

As long as he lived, he would protect Lily.

He would protect his parents.

He would protect Sirius, Remus, and Peter.

He would protect his fellows in the Order of the Phoenix.

And he would _damn sure_ protect his baby.

* * *

><p><strong>You know, this was actually a very difficult story for me to write. You see, originally I had written down in my red binder (the binder that holds every writing idea that goes through my brain) for this to be a complete <em>wedding<em> story. However, weddings are supposed to be very, um, "hippy-happy," and not only is that writing style _well_ out of my comfort zone (my stories generally have a dark ring to them, if you haven't noticed), but also love is something I have never before experienced.**

**It wasn't until I was typing a bit about it in The Corner section in my profile when this little idea came to me—and thank _God_ it did, because I didn't really know how to go about with writing an "icky love story."**

**Also, before anyone mentions it, _yes, I do realize that in the beginning of the story it's only been a week after their wedding_. I used a time skip, so please don't sue me.**

**Anyway, I hope that you guys liked it.**

**- CNGB**


End file.
